


the warmth of your hands

by oceandawn



Series: in another life [5]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Canon Continuation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceandawn/pseuds/oceandawn
Summary: callum is close to breaking point, but he doesn't break like glass. at least, not this time.this time, ben is there, and a lie is nothing against love.or; canon continuation of the 23/10/2020 episode
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Series: in another life [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924921
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	the warmth of your hands

**Author's Note:**

> Uh this isnt beta read or checked so sorry for typos i just wanted to write a lil comfort because i need it

_[Callum, 21:14]: is phil home? x_

Ben glances at his phone, taking the time to read it over and over. Callum is welcome in this house, by all means. He _lives_ here now.

However, it doesn't mean that he'll always feel welcome, considering the history, the weight of a name.

Ben places the freshly opened bottle on the side, leaning against the kitchen side as he uses both hands to text back. If Callum doesn't want Phil around, it means something's up. Well — what isn't going wrong at the minute?

_[Ben, 21:15]: no. he's gone out for a bit. you alright?_

Pressing send feels like a nail in his back. He wishes Phil would see sense and listen to him. In fact, he's still in shock about the other day when he _did,_ but it's barely holding on with any weight. He's bringing Callum into this and the amount of time he's seen Callum zone out in thought is starting to worry him.

There's so much on his mind, and Ben feels as if the warm, caring and smiling Callum he's come to love like no other is slowly starting to _crack —_ forced to follow family or the job, and his heart can't choose. It should be an easy choice, at least in Ben's eyes, but Callum's also wanted this for almost a year now, and he doesn't even know half of what Phil's asked him to do.

Frankly, Ben doesn't know anything about it. 

Maybe it's karma, in a way. Ben turning his back on Callum and breaking him to save him during Christmas last year because of Phil — and then now, Callum breaking because of Phil.

Well, it's obvious what's causing the rift, but it's up to them to fix it, heal it.

There's technically no rift, and they're still strong, still in love as ever, if not more — but Ben's hands can't seem to get warm ever since this all started.

He finds himself not being able to stand still as Callum doesn't reply, biting the nail of his left thumb, arms crossed against his chest in defence of whatever he feels threatened from.

It's not until the tall shadow that moves across the kitchen window that Ben stands on his own two feet, holding his breath as the door clicks open.

Callum walks through, shoulders low, expression empty, coat slung over his shoulders and the red in his cheeks from how cold it is outside. He should've been home from work hours ago, but because of Phil, he's there for longer than he needs to.

"Cal?"

He doesn't seem to register Ben, back against the door to shut it with the _clack_ of the blind against the window of it. Callum sighs deep, head towards the floor, hands moving outside his pockets to push against the skin of his face.

Ben's never seen him this broken in a while. Not even in February. 

"Callum," Ben repeats, taking cautious steps towards him.

Callum catches a glimpse of him, the worry and concern in Ben's eyes almost like a punch to his gut. He can't keep lying to him, not like this. The guilt pushes so hard against his lungs that it makes his breatning shake, taking his eyes away from Ben once more.

As Ben stands in front of him, he reaches out, the warmth of his hands burning against the cold of Callum's skin. His thumb brushes against the stubble of his jaw, hoping Callum will gain some strength from comfort like he usually does.

"Hey," Ben brushes his thumb faster as Callum still doesn't respond, dipping his head to try and meet Callum's eyes. _"Heyhey—_ Callum?"

Callum brings his head up slowly, aided by Ben's hold on him, bottom lip between teeth as his eyes remain shut. His chest expands, breath shaking on the exhale, and then another as he lifts his hand to wipe his nose against his wrist.

"I'm _tired,"_ He whispers, still keeping his eyes to the floor, slowly moving up Ben's body until he meets the blue of his eyes. "I'm so tired, Ben. _I'm so tired."_

There's a hiccup from how he's been holding his breath, and in any other moment, Ben would laugh, but the way Callum's eyes appear shattered, shining fragile, his heart can only mirror the same thing he sees.

Ben's hands grip a little more, pulling Callum slowly towards him. Like clockwork, like fate, Callum falls into him, hands slowly moving to grip the back of his shirt, hiding his face in Ben's neck.

It feels liie before, but so, _so_ different. A lot of time has passed since then. They're both different people, but both the same.

\- - -

Ben suggests they get an early night. Callum follows without a word, thankful that Ben isn't explicitly asking about what happened more than he needs to.

He's just — there. It means the world.

Ben is there to massage shampoo into his hair. He's there to gently rub his hair with a towel. He's there to make him a hot drink and bring it upstairs as Callum sits still against the headboard after making their way to bed with heavy feet and heavy heads. Ben almost feels as though he needs to sleep downstairs just to clear the air between them.

They sit in silence, almost afraid to say anything.

Callum finishes his hot chocolate, putting the mug aside, sinking into the pillow and hugging it entirely within his arms. Ben follows after him, laying on his side and looking over at him.

Callum doesn't say anything else. He doesn't need to. His eyes say it all.

He's not ready to say it. _God —_ he has no idea _how_ to say it. Callum can't just say that he's working for both sides, even though saying it now would mean all the weight falls off his shoulders. But even then, it'd just fall onto Ben's shoulders, and he'd panic and think of ways to get them out of it.

Ben's already been through enough in Callum's eyes these past few months. This will only make it worse, and if all goes well - which it probably won't - they'll go back to being _them._ Just _them — Ben and Callum._

Ben adjusts his head, hair moving softly against the pillow as Callum breathes steady beside him. The moonlight arches over his shoulder, cut into thin threads from the blinds.

He reaches over, fingers combing through the soft fringe of Callum's hair, no product, smiling as Callum's eyes fall shut. Ben's touch tingles, warmth soothing Callum's bones, freeing the knots in muscles held taut from the day.

Ben moves again, closer, hand falling down Callum's cheek until it settles on his collar-bone. His nose brushes against Callum's, and for a moment, Callum opens his eyes to meet him again, eyes falling over Ben's face in the only way a lover can. Admiration, somewhere between awe and love entirely, however you explain what love _is._

Callum can feel the distance between them as if it's something physical, pulling them apart but closer still. His eyes move over Ben's, trying to understand what he won't speak.

They don't need to, not when they both know the easy way of telling each other that they're still the same, the same as they always were, always are. Always will be.

Callum nudges their noses together once more, eyes falling closed as he tips his chin slightly to kiss Ben, one of his hands moving from gripping his own pillow to place it on his arm, moving upwards, warm against Ben until it settles on his neck. 

Ben moves from it, feels Callum pulling him closer and he follows him, eyes closed himself as he wraps his arms around him, kissing slow, warm enough to soothe but not enough to burn. 

They break after a few seconds, Ben keeping them close by his own choice, even without Callum's hand softly scratching at the nape of his neck.

"Promise me something?" Ben asks, keeping his eyes closed, noses brushing once more as their bodies stay close, hands still hold, hearts beating steady.

Callum doesn't answer. He only beathes in, audibly, enough for Ben to know it's too much to promise, but that he'll listen anyway. It's Callum — of course he'll listen.

Ben brushes one hand over his cheek, the other settled on his stomach, fingers gently pinching at his night shirt.

"When you're ready, you tell me," Ben whispers it between them, the promise. Phil doesn't have to know, no one does. Only them. They'll equally carry burdens to make it easier for one another, not stretch it out until it's out of their hands.

Well, maybe it already is. Ben doesn't know that.

Callum turns his head away, pushing his face into the pillow with a sigh. Ben knows that's the end of it.

But not quite.

"I will," Callum says, turning back, a smile on his lips that seems genuine, too soft and private to be anything else. "I promise you. In time — I will. When it's right."

It's better to be worthy of the truth then never told at all. 

"Then — I'll wait," Ben shrugs, smiling now as well because of the thought he's about to speak. "I've waited before. I can do it again."

_Waited for us._

Callum closes his eyes, sighs, smiles brighter and shakes his head, "That was different." 

"Only in context," Ben turns his head to the ceiling. "We always seem to work these things out, one way or another. Can't seem to get rid of you either, so, I guess I'm waiting."

Ben turns his head back to see Callum staring, but it's not something he can easily translate.

"How long?"

Ben frowns, "Huh?"

"How long," repeats Callum, "How long would you have waited?"

Ben goes to laugh, the huff rushing from between his lips, but Callum's eyes show that this isn't some distraction to change the subject. He genuinly wants to know.

He knows what he _wants_ to say, but Ben goes the easy route. His heart says _too long, long enough, as long as it took —_ but he speaks something entirely different.

"Don't know. It could've been so different, all of it, even now. I know I had feelings for you — but you weren't there. I was leaning over a bar drowning my sorrows while you were making vows of undying love and it felt like that was it. I couldn't wait anymore," Ben bites his lip, remembering. "But I wanted to. I wanted to wait because I'm stubborn and I thought — one way or another I'd find you. I'd find you when you were ready and I'd be there."

Callum looks away, somewhere on the wall, before falling back on Ben again. Ben seems lost now, too. He's lost in memories not that long ago, memories that remain fresh because he's never stopped loving Callum, and he doesn't think he ever will.

"I wanted that. Someone to wait for me," Ben looks back to Callum now, something more genuine in his eyes, real and raw. "So I waited for you."

Callum swallows, heart in his throat. He wants to reach over and kiss him, kiss him until his lungs burn and say, "Thank you."

It's just easier to say it. Sometimes words do mean more than actions, as rare as that is.

Ben smiles, shrugging.

"Hot lad on my arm is thanks enough."

"Don't ruin it," laughs Callum, shoving him gently. "But — seriously. Thank you, for being there."

"You're there for me too. Hell, you've always been there, in some way. Better then I have."

Callum disagrees, "Not a competition."

"I'm not saying it is. I just — I meant it when I said you were lovely. I didn't even know what to say, and it felt like _lovely_ didn't even come close to what you did. I lost my hearing and you were there as if I hadn't lost anything at all."

"You were still you," Callum moves his thumb along his jaw. "All I did was — stand by you. Be there."

"Apparently even that is a tall order for some people," smirks Ben, happy that he can laugh about it somewhat. It's a horrible memory, always will be, but the pockets of Callum in that time don't make it as much of a chore.

"I promise I will," he says after some time, fingertips playing with the longer hair at the back of Ben's neck. "I — I know I could just say it now but I don't know if that will help make it any better — and that sounds like an awful excuse but I—"

"Callum," Ben sighs. "I know. I know you wouldn't be keeping it from me without reason," he looks between them, folding his free hand around Callum's, fingers intertwining easily. "Just tell me one thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it hurting you? Or will it?" Ben doesn't want to ask, afraid of the answer, and even more afraid of the truth Callum will no doubt answer with.

"I — we," he stutters. "We both are. That's — all I can say. I just need to know you're safe, that _we_ are, before I can tell you and we can sort this out together."

Ben's heart stings. It keeps stinging until Callum lifts his head and stirs Ben from the awful trance of images predicting the worst possible outcomes.

"Cal— you gotta' tell me. _Please."_

Callum shakes his head, eyes closing until their foreheads bump together. It's breaking them, more than he thought he would.

Ben isn't lying anymore. It's the last time. He can trust him, they always trust each other.

"Tomorrow," Callum breathes that word, as finally, it feels right. "Tomorrow. I'll tell you. I just — not tonight. I'm too tired, I don't wanna' say something wrong and—"

Ben kisses him quiet, hands framing his face, fingers combing through his hair once until they fall back onto his shoulders.

"Tomorrow," Ben grips his hand. "Tomorrow morning. We'll talk."

Callum nods, head falling to Ben's chest as he pulls the duvet over them.

Tomorrow will be different. They'll always have tomorrow.


End file.
